Lost in Planetoids
by originella
Summary: 14-year-old Aurora Zenith moves to town and enrolls at Henry Herpson High School, and put into senior classes due to her excellent academic progress thus far. Summer is entrusted with showing her around the school, as they have the same class schedule, and the girls become friends. With her love of sci-fi, she soon makes an impression on Morty, and Rick, after her powers manifest.


Chapter One: Dimensional Planes

 _Pardon me while I vomit_ , I think to myself as Principal Gene Vagina of Harry Herpson High School looks over my transcript. I sink further in my chair, arms crossed, mentally reminding myself to put my legs together at the ankles as I attempt to chew my bubble gum nonchalantly. Principal Vagina shuffles the paperwork in front of him before turning to my parents, a pleased look on his face while his eyes retained their insanity.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Zenith, all the paperwork for Aurora's transfer seems to be in order," he proclaims.

"Attorney and Doctor," my father puts in, his haughty voice apparently lost on my new principal. My father never hesitated to inform people of both his and my mother's occupations. "As you know, I'm the newest attorney for Chadwick & Adamson, while my wife is the newest Head Doctor of Oncology at Celestial Hospital," he says patiently.

I automatically smacked my forehead—Principal Vagina obviously had better things to do than listen to my father blather on.

"Of course—excuse me," he replies. "Fourteen-years-old and already in senior classes," Principal Vagina says, turning to me with an insane grin. "Your parents must be very proud."

It takes all that I have not to smack him for his closeness to me. "Yeah, I guess I could be proud," I reply, not sitting up upon being addressed.

"Aurora Venus Zenith, where are your manners?" my mother demands, snapping her perfectly trimmed fingers. "Sit up straight and look at Principal Vagina in the eye when he is talking to you. And be sure to thank him properly, darling—I mean, he's accepting you three months into the school year, you know."

"Your mother is right," my father rules, his cool tone not lost on me as he appears reserved in his thousand-dollar suit, one of the two dozen or so he had. "You will be polite at all times, Aurora. I mean it."

I straighten up in my chair, elongating my back so as I am drawn up to my full sitting height. Forcing myself to plaster on a smile, I stare at Principal Vagina and force my tone to sound sweet. "Please excuse me, sir," I said softly. "I am a little anxious when it comes to new environments."

"Of course," Principal Vagina replies. He opens his desk drawer and takes out a piece of paper and signs it before sliding it across the desk towards me. "And this is your first time in a public school, Aurora?"

I nod. "Yes, Principal Vagina."

"Very well, then," he replies, looking over the paper in front of him before handing it fully over to me. "There's your class schedule."

"Thank you," I reply, taking it.

"And here's a map of the school," he says, taking it out of another drawer and passing it to me efficiently. "You'll notice your classes are all senior ones, but that's what you signed up for. Of course, not all of them will be all seniors—what I mean is, classes such as electives will feature multi-grades."

"I understand," I reply, scanning the map for a quick emergency exit, should I ever have need of one.

"Oh, and before I forget, I've assigned a fellow senior to you to show you around who has your same schedule." Principal Vagina presses a button on his ancient, school desk phone and speaks directly into it. "Mrs. Phelps, would you send in the student now, please?"

"Yes, Principal Vagina," says the voice of one of the secretaries I'd seen outside before there was a click.

The door opened momentarily thereafter, and a girl who was a few inches taller than I was stepped inside. She wore white capri pants and a purple tank top; her reddish-brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her backpack was hanging off one of her shoulders. "You wanted to see me, Principal Vagina?" she asked and looked a bit shocked at the cavalry in front of her. "Oh, I'm sorry—Mrs. Phelps said to come in... I could wait..."

"No need, Miss Smith," Principal Vagina says, getting to his feet. "This is Attorney and Dr. Zenith, and their daughter, Aurora. Aurora has done advanced programs all throughout her academic career, and so now she has your schedule—she qualifies as a senior."

"Wow," the girl says, a little impressed. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," I reply.

She smiles. "My younger brother is fourteen, but he can be kind of a dweeb sometimes. You seem way cooler."

I blink, shocked that someone like her could think that. "Thank you," I reply, and curse myself because it sounds more like a question than gratitude.

"Summer," Principal Vagina says, "I assigned you to show Aurora around school today and possibly tomorrow. You know—show her the points of interest and show her where your classes are."

"We have the same classes?" Summer asked.

Principal Vagina nodded. "You do." He hesitated for a moment. "Attorney and Doctor Zenith have requested a safe place for Aurora to spend after school days as they don't want her to be alone after dark. Could she go to your house after school to do homework and hang out?"

Summer looks a little uncomfortable. "I'll have to check with my mom and..." She looks saddened for a moment before quickly recovering. "My mom probably won't mind—she's a horse doctor, so she has weird hours. And my grandfather and brother won't mind—they tend to keep to themselves." She then moves her backpack to a more secure position on her shoulder. "Should be fine. You'll have to meet Rick sooner or later."

Principal Vagina checked his watch. "First period starts in ten minutes," he said swiftly. "Better get along now, girls."

"Bye, Mom," I said, kissing her on the cheek. "Bye, Dad," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, Principal Vagina," I say, moving to follow Summer out of there and through the main office. "Listen, I'm sure you don't want some lame fourteen-year-old following you around," I said quietly as we reached the main hall of the school. "I can read maps. If you want to ditch me and force me to find the classrooms on my own, you can."

Summer sighs. "Really, seniors aren't that mean," she tells me. "Come on—I'll show you around, don't worry."

"Summer!" screams a bewildered voice from behind us.

Turning, I see a guy of about my height—maybe an inch taller—who runs towards the both of us down the hallway.

"Morty!" Summer shouts. "What—?!"

"Ohhh... Hot girl—so close to me... Oh..." Morty moans, looking me up and down wearily.

"Morty!" Summer shouts again, this time with a hint of agitation in her tone. "This is Aurora Zenith—she's new here today and I'm her assigned buddy."

"Aw, jeez, Summer, why you?!" demands Morty, clearly annoyed by this fact that Summer had access to me and he didn't. "She's _my_ age!"

"You're right," I tell him. "I'm fourteen, too. But I did private school forever so now I'm a senior. It's all very simple."

"What is it you need, Morty?" Summer asked impatiently. "I have to show Aurora around or we'll be late for calculus..."

"Rick needed me to hold onto this," Morty says, reaching into his own backpack and handing something over to her. "But I can't—I have a big test today in English lit and I can't be distracted!"

"Why do you have a neurotransmitter floating in a gelatinous substance?" I ask, a bubble of fascination flowing through me. "Is that black market DNA or something or is it a cure for cancer?"

"I... I... I plead the fifth!" Morty says, clearly awed at my grasp of scientific jargon in that moment before turning back to Summer. "Will you?"

She sighs. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Aurora, we'd better get going," she says, shoving the neurotransmitter into her backpack.

"You're hot!" Morty declares, blushing.

I find myself laughing at that. "Thank you," I reply.

"Aurora!" Summer calls.

"Will I see you around?" Morty asks.

I nod. "Yeah—Summer is going to ask your mom if I can come over during the week after school."

"What?! Really?!" Morty cries.

I nod again. "Yeah," I say, moving to follow Summer. "I guess I'll see you later, then, Morty," I say, following Summer upstairs and out of sight.

After an appallingly boring hour of calculus, Summer and I make our way to the other side of the school, where reportedly our theater class is. This class focuses on improv, and I must confess that it is my favorite method of theater. The current unit is on fairy tales and I'm shocked when Morty arrives, his test anxiety gone, and comes to sit with me and Summer. Morty smiles and waves at me, and I wave back; apparently this class was one of those multi-grade ones previously discussed by Principal Vagina.

"You must be Aurora Zenith," says a woman who can only be described as a new age hippie. She steps forward, her rich African accent soothing to me, as is the floral pattern of the scarf around her hair. "My name is Kali Dudzai—it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," I reply, taking her hand and shaking it. "And how do you prefer to be addressed?"

"Kali is just fine—we are quite informal in this class," she says, her voice as rich as black coffee with cream and sugar. "Are you familiar with the art of improv, Aurora?" she asks me.

I nod. "Yes, I am."

"Wonderful," she replies. "Our unit for today and for the rest of the week is fairy tales—do you have one that you like? A favorite?"

"My favorite is _Beauty and the Beast_ ," I reply.

"Wonderful," Kali says again. "Come on, Aurora—stand up. You can play Belle, I think..." She says, watching as I get to my feet and ponders the rest of the class for a moment. "And—ah, perfect! Morty, come on! You can play the Beast!"

"Uh—I don't know Kali, I think—" Morty begins.

"Come on, Morty!" Kali says in an encouraging tone. "Don't be shy around Aurora now!"

"Oh, uhhh... All right," Morty says, getting to his feet and making his way opposite me, eyes downcast, almost as if he's afraid to look at me.

"Brad, why don't you play Gaston?" Kali suggests, and a guy who had to have been a sophomore or junior approaches the stage, coming close to knocking Morty away from me.

"Hey," Brad says, looking me up and down.

I try not to show him that he's negatively ruffling my feathers, although this rather slippery fellow did nothing for me. "Hello," I say in a reserved tone, knowing I could knock this guy's teeth out if push came to shove.

"Let's do a scene where Gaston is interacting with Belle, except it's more modern," Kali suggests, motioning for Morty to leave the stage.

Brad immediately enters my personal space and looks me up and down again, albeit more boldly than before. "What's up, Belle?" he asks, putting on what he thinks is a suave tone of voice. "Do you wanna hook up later?"

I make no mistake in my disgust for Brad's approach to the character, and quickly remember that, as Belle, I can incorporate my disgust into it as well. "No," I reply forcefully. "I'd say 'no, thank you,' but that's too polite—even for someone like you, Gaston. I've got to go now," I say, moving to leave.

Brad reaches out and yanks me back to his side. "Hold on, baby—I didn't say you could go anywhere yet."

Without missing a beat—and due to the significant amount of pressure he's putting on my arm—I reach out with my other hand and slap him across the face. "Hold on, mister—it's 2017! If I say, 'I've got to go', it means I have to go—not when you say I can leave! Until or unless you get that through a thick head like yours—which I think would be impossible due to the apparent amount of footballs you've taken to your head!" I force the glee out of my expression and my voice as Brad cups his swollen cheek. "If you ever touch me again, I will pepper spray your sorry ass, and call the cops for a restraining order. Do you understand me?"

Brad nods. "Yes."

"Good," I reply.

"Fantastic!" Kali says, and everyone in the class—especially Summer—applauds our efforts. "Now let's do a scene with Aurora and Morty!"

"Okay," Morty says, walking onstage as Brad slinks back off to his seat. "What should we do, Kali?"

"Why doesn't Beast tell Aurora how he really feels?" Kali asks.

"Oh, okay," Morty says, looking at me. "Listen, Belle—I want you to know that I think you're beautiful and I really...like you a lot."

I smile at Morty, thinking that he was adorable. "I really like you, too, Beast. And I'm happy here with you—really happy."

Morty visibly brightens at that. "Really? You really are?"

I nod. "Of course I am. I promise."

He reaches for my hand then and I take it. "That means a lot, Belle."

I give him a half-smile then, standing on my toes and brushing his lips with mine, and find a giggle escape my throat when he kisses me back.

"Okay, okay!" Kali says, pushing us apart. "Aurora, that was very sweet, but no kissing unless we're doing a formal play that's called for it."

I nod, lowering my eyes. "Sorry about that."

Kali smiles and I peek up at her. "Don't worry—it's your first day, you didn't know the rule. As for you, Morty," she says, turning to him. "You know the rules, of course. No kissing."

"Sorry, Kali," Morty replies, and we share a smile as she turns back to address the class again.

Summer checked with her mom to ascertain that it was all right for me to come over that day after school during lunch, and her mother said it was fine. Because my mother was a doctor, I always had to have an expensive and technical organic diet because of it. My lunch consisted of a Kobe beef burger with lettuce instead of buns, strawberry yogurt, freshly squeezed apple juice, and peach slices for dessert. I also had to run a mile on weekdays—which could be done during my gym class, as we had the option of track—and three miles on the weekends. If it was too rainy to run outside, our house—and our new one since the move—had an expansive home gym to use.

We arrived at Summer's house after school with Morty in tow, and went directly up to Summer's bedroom, while Morty went into the garage. This happened every single day for five days, and I never once questioned it. Every day I admired something different in Summer's room and would sit down, as directed, on her bed. I looked over my homework and sighed—I had already finished almost all of it during lunch, as I had done every day, and now, it was always done by the end of the school day. Calculus, drama, history, American Government, college prep writing, and physics—all completed, and I'd even managed to finish the work for the rest of the week.

"Are you having trouble with the essay?" Summer asked.

I showed her my draft—which was really my final draft. "I just have to type the thing up," I told her lamely, feeling utterly and completely inferior at the notion that I didn't procrastinate like so many students did. "I can do that after one of my parents picks me up."

Summer looks briefly shocked before shaking it off and looking through her backpack and continuing to scatter the papers we'd received from our various classes that day onto her comforter. "What about history?" she asks, looking over the rubric. "Any trouble there?"

"The outline is due Wednesday and I finished it," I reply.

Summer looks amazed. "We had to have a topic by Monday..."

"Figured that out within five minutes," I reply, feeling like a terrible person for finishing my assignments like this.

"Your textbook assignment for government—?"

"Finished—all through Monday," I reply easily.

"Physics? Deciding on a topic for our next lab and doing a write-up on it to be presented on Friday?"

I nod, showing it to her. "Finished on the drive home. The thought process was finished a few moments before the bell rang."

Summer sighed. "Well, I showed you where the kitchen is. Go on downstairs and help yourself to a snack if you want. I have to get this done."

I lower my eyes to the mountains of paperwork in front of her. "I could help you with some of that," I offer her.

She shakes her head with a small smile. "Thanks, but if I don't do it, I'll never learn how to do it myself. You go get a snack—it's cool."

"If you're sure," I say, sliding off the bed.

"Positive," Summer calls back. "Morty's always in the garage with Rick if you want to see him."

"I..." I say, suddenly at a loss for words. "Who's Rick?"

"My grandfather," Summer says as she turns around and smiles at me. "I know you like my brother, Aurora—it's cool. Hey, you could even ask him to prom and it wouldn't be illegal."

I give a nervous laugh and walk out into the hallway and down the stairs. I walk through the living room and into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sipping it slowly. I hear fast-paced talk coming from the garage and step closer, putting my ear up against it.

"Morty—" Begins the first voice, interrupted by a sudden burp. "Morty, shut up for a minute."

"Oh, Rick, come on!" Morty shouts back. "I hardly ask for anything but I really want to tell you about this girl..."

"Fine Morty—" A second burp. "I can save the intergalactic infinity galaxy another day!" says Rick in an exasperated tone. "What about this girl? Does she give you a boner? Does this girl give you a boner..." Burp. "Morty?"

"Aw, Rick! That's...that's not appropriate..."

"Sorry, sorry, I forgot—" Burp. "—you're twelve. You're not supposed to know what all that junk is yet."

"Rick, I'm fourteen..."

"Right, right..." Burp. "Same difference nowadays. All you millennials really care about is shoving your eyes up..." Burp. "...against the various screens you're in possession of. That's..." Burp. "...all you really care about, isn't it, Morty? All your electronic devices with screens that you can look at?" Burp. "Right?"

"No, Rick! That's not all we care about!" Morty shouted, his voice taking on a stronger inclination. "Listen, Rick! I like her, okay? I like the new girl at school, so sue me for having feelings!"

"I don't think you can sue someone for having feelings, Morty," Rick replies in a lazy tone, letting out another loud burp. "I tried to sue your dad after he got your mom knocked up with Summer, and it didn't go anywhere at all..."

"Aw, jeez, Rick..."

"But what's so special about this..." Burp. "...new girl, Morty? What makes her so special? What makes her so special that she tickles your butthole and other kinds of fancy things?"

"Aw, jeez, Rick... We kissed once already, but it was for class only. I don't even know if she likes me back..."

"When did you..." Burp. "...realize your feelings for her were encapsulated on a deeper level, Morty?" Rick asks.

"It was when she correctly identified your neurotransmitter device," Morty replies without missing a beat. "She called the liquid a gelatinous substance, but that's not the name for it, is it, Rick?"

"I call it 'Gooey Shit', Morty, but that's beside the point," Rick says quickly, and lets out another loud burp before continuing. "You have the hots for a girl with a vocabulary like that?"

"Aw, jeez, Rick, it's more than that..."

"Is she hot, Morty? Do you think this girl is hot?" He burps again, hesitating for a moment. "What's her name, anyway?"

"Aurora," Morty replies, and my heart pounds a bit when he says my name so sweetly and lovingly.

"Morty?" Rick asks.

"What?" Morty replies.

"Morty—Morty... Your girlfriend is out there right now—listening."

"Aw, Rick, she's not my—" Morty begins.

"Dammit, Morty, you're not listening!" Rick shouts, and suddenly the door rattles open before I can make a run for it and there's Rick, towering above me and looking me up and down, as if appraising a race horse. "You must be Aurora, because you don't look a thing like Summer. Nice to meet you," he says, leaning back against the door. "I'm Rick."

"Hello, there, Rick," I reply, not bothering to put out my hand, for he hadn't done so either. I look past Rick to Morty, who has put out his lips so that they are drooping ever so slightly, with a perfectly pathetic look upon his face. "Your grandfather was right, Morty—I was standing here, listening. I heard the whole conversation..."

"Aw, jeez..." Morty says, his face reverting to normal.

"So, you don't need Morty to tell you how he feels?" Rick asks, his blue hair flopping a bit as he walks back to a makeshift desk in the garage.

I shake my head. "No, I don't." I turn back to Morty and smile at him.

"You're not mad at me, Aurora?" Morty asks.

I shake my head. "Of course I'm not mad at you," I reply. "Listen, I..."

"This is all very touching," Rick interrupts, burping again. "But I need you to come inside her and shut the door, Aurora."

"Rick, no!" Morty shouts.

Shrugging, I move to enter the garage and shut the door behind me. "What is it, you guys?" I ask them, looking from one face to the next.

Rick sighs, picking up an instrument—all made of chrome—from his desk top and points it at me. "Clearly, you're very intelligent, Aurora, but you're a distraction to Morty and our plans and I can't have that—"

Without missing a beat, I make it look like I'm going to launch myself into the air and when Rick moves to dodge me, I deliver a roundhouse kick to his legs, knocking him over. The ray gun goes flying and I catch it, pointing it at him and narrowing my eyes at him. "Still think I'm a distraction?" I ask.

Rick laughs uncontrollably. "You grabbed the wrong gun!" he shouts, taking a smaller gun from his pocket. "I anticipated that."

"So, this doesn't do anything?" I ask, lifting the gun up and down like a whole weight system.

"No—it's more of a taser/fire blaster—"

Quickly, I blast the gun from his hand and smirk at Rick's shocked expression. I let out my own laugh and toss the taser/fire blaster back onto his desk. "Now then, what is it you two do in here?"

Rick turns to Morty. "Can she be trusted?"

Morty grins. "Well, Summer likes her, and so does Mom."

Rick sighs. "Good enough," he says. He reaches into his tool belt at his waist and points it at the wall, a neon-green circle appearing before us. Morty walks in without hesitation, and Rick motions for me to step in first and I do so, with Rick following just behind.

We are standing in an arid-looking desert, but it is surprisingly chilly. There are no tumbleweeds, but plenty of plateaus as far as the eye can see. It appears that, skyward, there have been nuclear bombs that have gone off, yet the plumes of smoke have frozen in place due to the cold. I pull my sweater closer to me, zipping it up and digging my hands into my pockets as Rick begins typing into something on his wrist.

"Checking our coordinates?" I ask him.

Rick looks surprised. "Yeah, actually. Morty, take notes—that's an appropriate question to ask at a time like this, in a new..." Burp. "...place. Not, 'Where are we'? 'Can we get something to eat'? Or my personal favorite, 'Aw, jeez, Rick, where do I go to the bathroom'?" "Aw, jeez, Rick, don't say that... Then I'll end up having to go," Morty whines and locks his knees together, all the while shivering as a cool breeze picks up soon thereafter. "It's so cold... Why didn't you give either of us any warning before bringing us here?"

"Morty, I can't help it if Aurora is already a better dimensional traveler than you are," Rick says, returning to coordinate checking.

I reach out as Rick isn't looking, taking one of Morty's hands and holding it and guiding it into my pocket. "Little better?" I ask him.

Morty chuckles nervously. "Yeah," he replies.

"Why did you pick here to visit?" I ask Rick.

Rick bends down, reaching into his tool belt again and removing a pair of shiny, silver tweezers and a hand-held microscope. "I need a few grains of this precious sand..." Burp. "...for a project," he explains. "Feel free to walk around and explore —but not too far, and absolutely _no_..." Burp. "...selfies!" Rick orders.

"Looks like a scary alien race used to live here," Morty observed as we stepped up to the closest plateau.

"Before they died out from a strange disease," I mutter. I knock against the side of the plateau, and it echoes creepily around us. "Creepy," I say.

"Yeah, really," Morty replies.

"Oh, shit," Rick mutters to himself.

"What is it?" I ask, turning to face him.

Rick slowly looks up then, and suddenly the sky is full of airships. "We've got company," he declares.

The ships soon land and the doors open; ramps are pulled from the walls of the ship and soon several clones of Rick step out onto the desert sand. Smirks come upon each of their faces for a moment, before anger overtakes them. They look at me—staring daggers at me, really—before shaking their heads.

"Rick, Rick, Rick... Another outsider?" the supposed leader asks.

"She's Morty's girlfriend," Rick said by means of excuse.

"We never..." Morty began.

"Rick's right," I reply, not wanting anything to happen to Morty, and thought that it wouldn't if I just played along. "I'm Morty's girlfriend."

"You poor damned fool," the leader says, shaking his head. He snaps his fingers as he raises his gun, and nods for the others to follow suit. "You should've listened to us, Rick."

"Get behind me," I whisper to Morty, unzipping my sweater and wrapping him up in it to stop his shivering.

"What...?" Morty asks.

"Just do it," I reply, zipping up my sweater on him, and he listens.

"Now it's time to wipe your memories and to assassinate the enemy," the lead Rick says next. "On the count of three," he says, and I feel Morty tense up behind me in a moment of fear. "One..." the leader says, and Rick stands at attention—clearly used to all of this. "Two..." the leader says, and I feel Morty lower his head from behind me. "Three..."

Just as they are about to fire upon me I raise my arms—in their conceited way, they will assume I am proudly meeting my own death. However, as soon as they are about to pull the triggers of their weapons, I beckon to their guns. They come flying towards me at top speed, and then I flatten my hands and create a barrier between us—one the bullets won't penetrate. Rick's own ray gun flies into my hands and I'm able to press a button, opening a portal again and stepping through it, back into the Smith family garage.

As soon as I've shut the portal—the screams of the other Ricks not lost on me—I know I will be peppered with questions.

"How did you do that?!" Morty demands.

"What _was_ that?!" Rick wants to know.

I sigh, shrugging. "I don't know," I reply. "As far as I can remember, without explanation, really, I can repel and attract metallic objects and I can create forcefields... I guess you could say it's a gift."

"Is that why you've never been to public school?" Morty asks.

I roll my shoulders. "My transcripts say that I was in private school and I was—private _home_ school. My parents didn't want their picture-perfect family letting out a secret like this."

"So, your parents..." Burp. "...know about it?"

"Pretty hard to miss," I reply.

"Can your parents do anything like that?" Morty wants to know.

"Other than psychotic memory levels—nothing that extreme," I reply. "That's just me...just me."

Morty looks shocked at this declaration.

"Kids, I've got some..." Burp. "...work to do. Why don't you head to the kitchen and get a snack and act like normal teenagers for fifteen minutes while I get some work done?" Rick asks.

"Sure," I reply, taking my sweater from Morty and walking towards the kitchen door and opening it. I hear Morty following me and he shuts the door, and I lean up against the county, fully prepared to eat whatever he wants. "Do you have any other questions?" I ask as Morty gathers some store-bought cookies on a plate and pours two glasses of milk.

"Yeah, one," Morty says, shutting the fridge as I pick up the plate of cookies and bring them to the table, while he takes the glasses of milk. "Why did you tell those other Ricks that you were...you know...?"

"Your girlfriend?" I ask.

Morty nods, picking up a cookie and dipping it into his glass. "Yeah."

I sigh, chewing my cookie methodically. "I meant what I said, you know—about me hearing all of it. Your conversation with Rick."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I know how you feel about me. You like me."

Morty lowers his eyes. "Yeah..."

"Well, I can assure you I understand if you don't want to be with someone... I mean, someone who's got... All this going on."

Morty chuckles. "It's me you have to worry about."

"How's that?"

"Well, I don't have any friends except my sister and grandfather, my dad left the family, my mom's always at work..."

I lean in and brush my lips with his. "Welcome to the club," I reply.

Morty sighs. "So..."

"So?" I ask.

Morty leans in and kisses me. "So...?" he says.

I nod at him. "So."


End file.
